And They Lived Happily Ever After
by sllebswap
Summary: BelHaru TYL ficlet. Outtakes and short stories from the 'Of Sparrows and Princes'-verse. Part One: The royal brats pay a visit to their parents - in the past.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** And They Lived Happily Ever After

**Author: **sllebswap

**Beta'd by:** MelissaRose85

**Characters/Pairing: **Miura Haru and Belphegor

**Type:** OneShot Collection (InComplete)

**Genre:** Romance/General/Humor

**Word Count:** 6921

**Rating: **T (Contains content not suitable for children)

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.

**Summary: **TYL ficlet. Outtakes and short stories from the 'Of Sparrows and Princes'-verse. Part One: The royal brats pay a visit to their parents – in the past.

**Chapter Last Revised on:** 04/05/13

* * *

**The Royal Brats: Part I**

* * *

At the outskirts of Varia territory, the peaceful tranquility of the Tuscan countryside was suddenly shattered by an abrupt explosion of smoke followed by a lot of coughing and swearing. Through the dense veil of dust particles, four figures tumbled ungracefully from the displaced space they suddenly appeared in, and although none were too thrilled about the situation, some were even less so than others.

"Whichever of you goons is sitting on me, _get off now before I start hacking off body parts._"

"Oww… It's me. Sorry, I didn't mean to land on you!"

"Talk lesser, move faster!"

"Yeesh, you know I can be such a klutz…!"

"Yeah? I kind of got that memo a long time ago. Just get off. We haven't even done anything yet and I'm already gritting my teeth and tenuously hanging onto the last threads of my patience. And while we're at it, keep Brat away from me before I accidentally kill him. I feel that I might actually succeed this time."

"Yes, yes! Getting off right now! …By the way, Miyu-nee, how are you still talking at the same time you are gritting your teeth?"

"Yah! Do you want to die?!"

"Eeeh!"

On the other side of the clearing, the third person, who had tumbled rather inelegantly onto the ground, snorted at all the noise coming from his two female siblings (the older one in particular was starting to bellow like she usually did) and lazily picked himself up. He stretched, absently dusted himself off, and then conveniently reached out to drop a restraining arm around the little shoulders of the one christened 'Brat' just in time to prevent the mischievous rascal from running off by himself. The youngster promptly protested and tried to twist away from the other's firm hold but to no avail.

"Nooo! Lemme go!"

"No way, kid. Mom will have my hide if we lose you." The lanky teen easily picked up the child around his middle and tucked the squirming kid under his arm. "Damn, that was one hell of a ride. You can't tell me that you didn't enjoy that, Brat."

He was promptly smacked hard across the back of his head by his fuming older sister, who had recovered from being a landing pad for their other sibling and stalked over to thump him a good one. Hotaru, his younger sister, (also most importantly, the more placid, agreeable, usually sweet tempered one), trailed behind and gave him a commiserating wince. At the same time, the three year old bundle of unimaginable chaos and never ending source of energy that was his little brother started to chew at his wrist in frustration from being picked up, and oh, great; why must he be stuck with a hot tempered, bossy, overbearing sister and a brat of a kid brother?

"I most definitely did not enjoy that," Miyuko, the grumpy one, hissed irritably then. "And this had better be the correct place because I'm not going through that again."

"We are at the right place," the long suffering male replied as patiently as he could, but was careful not to sound patronizing since his older sister had a keen ear for that and was not above kicking him around in retaliation. Really, with a sister like that, who needed enemies? Still, genetics were admittedly fair, to bless him with the superior intelligence inherent in both of their parents to counter his irritable sibling and her insanely proficient combat abilities—the scary woman could open a can of whoop ass on just about anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

It did not save him from being whacked once more, unfortunately, as if she could discern his disgruntled thoughts. He stoically absorbed the unwarranted abuse, though a visible vein throbbed on his temple. "Stop being such a bitch," he muttered under his breath, exasperated.

Sure enough, her keen hearing caught his words, and she whipped her head around quickly to scowl at him. "What did you just call me?" she demanded loudly.

He was smart enough to hold his silence, though unfortunately for him, Brat chose that moment to quit gnawing on his older brother's wrist and chime in, pointing at his fuming eldest sister as he did so. "Bitch!" he yelled out all too gleefully, only to squeal with alarm when said older brother promptly tried to strangle him into silence.

There was a lot of yelling going on by then, never mind the fact that two of the three involved were already in their mid to late teens. It quickly prompted the peacemaker of the family, coincidentally the second youngest of the four, to come hurrying over to join the fray, hoping to quickly mediate the situation before all the noise attracted the attention of anyone else in the vicinity.

"Waa! Mommy! I want Mommy!"

"Malaki Akihiko Artaxerxes Tsiveone II, you sniveling coward! Quit using Brat as a shield and take your punishment like a man!"

"I'll pass, thanks. Do I look stupid to you?"

"You always look stupid to me! Stop prancing around like a faggot so I can skewer you like a shish kebab!"

Brat was starting to wail loudly by then, unceremoniously adding to the rising cacophony, large, fat droplets of tears flowing down his cheeks as he did his best to look as pitiful as possible. His second sister came quickly to his rescue, deftly extracting him from the middle of the escalating altercation between their older siblings and expertly soothing him by planting a lollipop into his mouth, reserved especially for such occasions, which happened more often than they ought to. With the attention span of a puppy, the three year old quit crying immediately in favor of sucking furiously at the chocolate candy, and upon seeing that the child was appeased and momentarily content, Hotaru quickly hurried over to her other two siblings, who were much older and really should know better, she thought crossly.

"Can we please not fight until we reach the castle at least?" She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard by both her older brother and sister, but it was as if they hadn't registered her presence at all, busy as they were jumping all over the clearing like a couple of demented ninjas on crack as both genuinely tried their best to do in the other. The silver glints of flying blades and fiery Sun Flames flashed and surged overhead, and really, if this situation got any more out of hand, they would all be found out before they could even attempt to sneak into the castle undetected.

The young girl did not like doing what she was about to attempt, but it seemed to be the only tried and proven method when it came to effectively halting her elder siblings in whatever spat they happened to be embroiled in at the moment. So, mentally fortifying herself and praying to whatever god might be in the vicinity for some much needed luck, she took a deep breath and stepped into her siblings' direct line of fire, squeezing her eyes shut as she saw the sharp knives and savage fire racing towards her defenseless self at diametrically opposite directions.

The rush of supercharged hot air ruffled the thirteen year old's long hair and she could hear the sharp whistle of a lethal blade abruptly changing trajectory mere inches from her ear. Creative curses and displeased yells of her name were quickly heard, but as usual, her older siblings promptly stayed their hands at her intrusion in their impromptu fight.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"Moron! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Ten years of being the baby of the family prior to Brat's unexpected birth clearly had its advantages when it came to managing her older siblings, as both immediately dropped whatever snit they had with each other to crossly berate her for her reckless behavior, something she had adopted at the tender age of two when she had wanted the attention of the two older children while they were too busy chucking their father's spare knives at each other at the respective ages of four and six. Never mind that she was now a lot older and well on her way to becoming a respectable young lady, apparently, old habits were hard to break and her two elder siblings immediately gathered around her in concern, admonishing the 'Piccola Principessa' of their family for her risky behavior. She was hardly that little anymore, but the third born of the family knew that she was very likely stuck with the embarrassing title for the rest of her life, so why not just milk it for all it was worth?

The soft, gentle doe brown eyes that she had inherited from their mother were extremely effective when it came to guilt tripping her older and more powerful siblings, and she had learned over the years how to make the best use out of her sweetly pretty, innocent features to convince others to do her bidding. Coupled with a serenely cheerful aura and a seemingly harmless demeanor, it was easy for her to politely convey her wishes to the unsuspecting individuals around her and have them fulfilled quickly. She was the sweetheart of their infamously notorious family, and people tended to drop their guard around her much faster than they would ever consider around her siblings, something she learned to take advantage of when there was a need for her to do so, though she was much too nice and sweet natured to attempt it often.

"Sorry to interrupt your daily bonding exercise, Miyu-nee, Aki-nii," she apologized with contriteness to the familiar backdrop of her siblings' indignant sputters. "I just wanted to get your attention before somebody else heard the commotion and wandered over to check." She looked at them beseechingly. "Can we not fight amongst ourselves until we have accomplished what we are here for? Not to mention, it'll be Brat's naptime soon, and he is going to get cranky if we are still not done by then."

The oldest trio turned to glance at their angelic looking youngest sibling, who was at the moment standing at the edge of the clearing, quiet and content as he kept himself blissfully occupied with his chocolate lollipop. Unfortunately, that peaceful satisfaction could disappear when all the candy was gone, and even if it didn't seem possible right now, the golden-haired, precociously cherubic child could turn into a demon brat of unspeakable proportions if granted enough incentive to be so. Without their parents around to control their horrendously devilish hell spawn, the rest of the siblings could only endeavor to get their objectives accomplished as soon as possible and head back where they belonged before the youngest one could start throwing any temper tantrums.

"Point," the elder brother acknowledged the younger teen's reasoning, pragmatic as ever and immediately shrugging off whatever conflict he had with his firstborn sister, his laidback and relaxed personality rising to the surface as he easily let go of his exasperation towards his rash and hot tempered older sibling.

Said rash and hot-tempered older sibling had a harder time dismissing her agitation, unhappy to be denied a proper fight to channel her irritation toward. She did subside reluctantly though, grumbling under her breath the entire while. "Should have helped Dad drown the troublesome brat in the toilet when he was born," Miyuko muttered disgruntledly. "But noooo, you guys thought that he was a cute little bugger. See how that decision is coming back around to bite us in our collective asses now?"

"Dad should have drowned you in the toilet," Malaki muttered in retaliation, and then he quickly tilted his head to the side to allow the dangerous hunting Sai that she had swiftly hurled at him in retaliation to whizz by harmlessly, hardly even batting an eye over the speed and ferocity of the attack. Fifteen years' worth of experience being on the receiving end of his sister's myriad bursts of temper had taught him the art of dodging with finesse, though thankfully, he didn't have to do much else this time, since his younger sister quickly nipped the escalating altercation in the bud by nimbly stepping between her older siblings once again.

"Come on, _fratellone_, _sorellona_," she cajoled exasperatedly in the musical tongue of the Italian language. "Knock it off. We really need to get going. Can I trust the both of you to behave like a pair of rational individuals while I get Brat?"

The resulting silence that followed her question was so absolute that crickets could be heard chirping in the background. The brunette sighed inwardly, and then she narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, giving them a particularly familiar stare of abject disappointment that never failed to quickly prod them into a positive response.

"Alright already," her older sister burst out irritably at last. "Stop looking at us like you are channeling Mom. We'll behave," she replied, rolling her eyes. Then, she reached around the younger female and loudly smacked her brother on the head. "Right, my cutest, most precocious, baby brother?"

Said 'baby brother' rolled his eyes as well, and scowled slightly. "I'm hardly a baby any more than you are a delicate little flower, you crazy, violent shrew."

He was promptly rewarded for his frankness with yet another hard swat to the back of his head. Malaki just gritted his teeth and ignored her. With all the abuse he had been receiving for so many years, it was a miracle that he had not degenerated into a blabbering imbecile. Somebody up there must really hate him, to pair him with such a disagreeable sibling. The irritated blonde turned to his younger sister.

"I will get Brat," he told her shortly before heading to the youngest of their family and singlehandedly picking up the three year old, who was still calmly sedate and preoccupied with his lollipop, and therefore put up no struggle as his older brother tucked him under his arm and carried him towards the rest of their siblings.

"Alright, now that we are all more or less adjusted to the past dimension, let's just get this done ASAP."

"Let's go meet our parents."

* * *

It was not easy being a married man, as Belphegor would tell just about anyone who was conveniently on hand to listen to his complaints. Unfortunately enough for a certain Archduke as well as a few of the Varia Commanders who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, the formidable Storm Flame wielder had already unloaded more than his fair share of marital grouses and then some more, whether they actually wanted to hear it or not, and it did not look like he was planning to give up on those free therapy sessions any time soon.

Evidently, the blonde had not expected that married life would be so hectic and add on to his already busy schedule. In between his duties to his country and the various Varia assignments, he now had a wife to look after as well, and although she was mostly self-sufficient and at the same time discreetly watched over by his faithful servants, the recent kidnapping incident had made him acutely aware of the lethal danger that could befall her if he was careless enough to let his guard down for any perpetrator to take advantage of the situation. The infuriating and highly stressful experience of searching for an abducted wife—especially when she was one (and the only one) whom he was so unabashedly partial to—was most definitely not something he wished to repeat again, and as such, he was now becoming rather overprotective and quickly learning to be much more wary and discerning than usual when it came to the matter of her safety.

And then there was also the rather annoying fact that the Royal Council was constantly badgering him with deceptively harmless proposals and statutes for him to sign into effect, but upon closer inspection, almost always contained a subtly hidden clause or another that cleverly attempted to block his Princess Consort and/or any of their future offspring from accessing the Tsiveone royal throne and fortune. Really, the bunch of over meddling fools must think he was an idiot who stupidly signed anything that was placed before him to constantly try his patience like this. Naturally, he had retaliated in kind by contacting his solicitor and redrawing his will to include Haru and all of their yet unborn children, ensuring that they would be well provided for and firmly protected by the power of his royal family in the event that anything untoward happened to him.

Needless to say, the silent political battle had generated even more paperwork for the Crown Prince to go through, and therein laid his increasing disgruntlement and displeasure. Alaisdair just flat out ignored the blonde's grumblings and continued to pass over more documents for him to peruse, mercilessly not cutting his King any slack whatsoever no matter how unhappily the younger man muttered about it. Those papers weren't going to sign themselves, after all.

Still, married life was not all doom and gloom and chasing after errant wives who somehow always got themselves into one form of trouble or another. It was actually quite bearable, enjoyable even, as Belphegor grudgingly admitted to himself, not to mention a completely novel experience. Sometimes, it still surprised the blonde that he had somehow captured the love and loyalty of a woman who was so very different from himself in terms of personality, but the bone deep sense of contentment and belonging that he derived around her simply spoke for itself, and he quickly grew possessive of her open, loving nature and unconditional acceptance of him.

She was intelligent, sweet and loving, and had more faith and trust in him than anyone else in the world. She made him feel…happy, if that was actually the correct word to describe that bemusing sensation of warmth and pleasure that seemed to emanate from him when he was in her vicinity, and that was not even taking in consideration of their satisfying sex lives. She fulfilled him, and it did not take long for Belphegor to come to the conclusion that her presence in his life was a much welcomed (and fiercely hoarded) one, and that she was well worth his protection and also his (impatient) putting up with whatever trouble she could stir up.

Now that the Prince had finally found his Princess, it was only natural for the household staff to prepare for the next stage of the couple's relationship—much to said couple's chagrin. The loyal men and women who had tirelessly devoted their lives to the Astonian Crown Prince wanted nothing more than to see the near extinct royal clan flourish once more, and they were already actively anticipating the conception of the next generation of Tsiveone heirs.

Belphegor had to hand it to them; his servants had certainly done their homework thoroughly when it came to this particular matter. In light of their ambitious goal, everything beneficial to 'the cause' had been done to ensure that the royal couple would conceive quickly. Haru was served nourishing meals to boost her fertility levels and strengthen her overall health so that her body would easily sustain a fledgling pregnancy when it occurred, and food with proven aphrodisiac properties were given to Belphegor to enhance his potency and vigor—not that he needed it, judging by his natural eagerness to couple with his wife, but evidently, more was always better in this case, and the servants were always more than happy to be safe rather than sorry.

Then there were also the less than subtle hints that Francesca would relay to him at a certain time of each month, when Haru was feeling even more affectionate and loving than usual and was, apparently, at the peak of her ovulation cycle. It seemed to Belphegor that the servants would become even more discreet and inconspicuous during that period of time, taking great care not to intrude upon the couple's privacy and, at the same time, efficiently handle just about any matter short of an outright mission on behalf of their Prince just so that he could spend more time bonding with his Princess. Belphegor was certainly appreciative of their initiative, but clearly they were taking their duties to a whole new level that not even he had witnessed before.

Evidently, this was an entire order of magnitude up from the adage 'it takes an entire village to raise a child'—in this case, the cooperation of an entire castle was required to assist in the conception of a Tsiveone heir—metaphorically speaking, of course.

It was rather convenient to have such dedicated helpers, but that did not mean that Belphegor was in anyway moved by their actions to deliberately apply himself to work harder on the baby making front. There was no hurry; both he and Haru were still relatively young, after all. Nature would take its course; they would have kids when it was time, and it wasn't as if he was in that great of a rush to share the attention of his sparrow with an entire passel of their brats so quickly, anyhow.

The blonde was definitely enjoying the downtime afforded to him as an indirect consequence of this heir creating business though; lazing around the castle and spending uninterrupted time around Haru was always pleasant—during brief, lulling periods of peace between assignments, that was.

As of now, he was content to remain near his wife, taking short missions in the Varia claimed territory of Tuscany, and by default, Florence. The brief engagements to watch over the historical capital allowed him to leave the castle during the day to go about on Varia business and still be back by evening, an adequate arrangement that rather pleased him. Of course, that also meant that the defense of the Castle fell upon him during this quarterly rotation since the other Commanders would be working in other territories and fulfilling their own obligations and assignments elsewhere. Usually, the servants and foot soldiers guarding the Castle were more than enough to defend the vast property, but every once in a blue moon, there would be perpetrators skilled enough to require the attention of a Commander, and therein laid the responsibility of whichever Varia executive happened to be in charge of protecting the Tuscany territory for the season.

Therefore, when Mortigor came knocking on the door that evening, apologizing for the intrusion and calmly insisting for his master to attend to a rather _unusual_ security breach, Belphegor wasn't all that surprised. Since it had been a rather uneventful day so far, dealing with a bunch of trespassers idiotic enough to break into Varia territory would prove to be momentarily entertaining, at the very least.

Beside him, Haru stirred to attention with a small frown at the news. In light of the rather recent abduction attempt, it would not be unexpected for her to react with wariness and unease in such a situation, but surprisingly enough, that had been barely her concern. "I think I better check to make sure that the server networks are secure and have not been hacked into."

The brunette put down the novel she had been reading and then frowned distractedly down at her husband when he did not obligingly move his head off her lap. The blonde was stretched lazily over the couch, shamelessly occupying as much space as he possibly could and contentedly using his wife as a convenient headrest, even as the exasperated woman was squeezed up against the end of the sofa in order to accommodate his lanky form. He had been lazily channel surfing prior to Mortigor's interruption, indolently bored but not restless enough to do anything about it, and besides, Haru had been steadily lulling him into a state of semi-relaxation as she absently fingered his hair and massaged his scalp whilst she read her mystery novel, and it felt good enough that he was willing to stay put and enjoy her ministrations.

"Bel, get off," Haru muttered then, shooting Mortigor a brief, embarrassed glance as the love of her life insisted on behaving like a stubborn, overgrown child before the butler who had practically raised him from babyhood. To his credit, Mortigor was hardly fazed by his master's behavior and remained as stoic and as unobtrusive as the floor lamp beside him as he waited patiently for further instructions.

"You are staying right here until I have resolved the problem," Belphegor remarked then, calm as you please. In the past, he would have cared less what she did while he left to deal with the attack, but that was no longer the case. He was adjusting quickly to his new responsibilities as a husband, was more emotionally invested in her wellbeing than ever, and was therefore more protective of her than before. If it meant that he had to become just a bit more attentive and vigilant in order to keep his mate close, then he would just have to do whatever it took to keep her secure and unharmed, even if he complained about it the entire way to anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity to hear of his displeasure. He was also prepared to ignore the many protests that the foolhardy woman he married would no doubt generate, but surprisingly enough, she yielded to his demand with little fanfare.

"Alright," Haru agreed all too readily, but apparently, her lack of overt disagreement was rather suspicious to her spouse, and she had to further elaborate on the reason for her suddenly obliging temperament to appease his paranoid nature. "I can work anywhere as long as I have my laptop, which happens to be right here. Of course, I'd prefer to interact directly with the servers down in the dungeon vaults if possible, but that's not likely to happen at the moment, is it?"

He didn't even bother to deny her observation, only grunting under his breath and moving off her lap now that he had secured her agreement to stay put. "You get into enough trouble when left unchecked," he muttered. "I'm merely trying to contain the amount of mayhem that you can cause by limiting the scope of your movements."

Haru gave him a small scowl at his pointed reminder of her carelessness; he was still taking every available opportunity to bring up the kidnapping incident that it would be a miracle if she could put it behind her anytime soon, even if she had already learned her lesson from the experience. He ignored the irritated look she was giving him, and merely stretched lazily and rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening his stance in preparation for direct confrontation.

Belphegor took blatant advantage of her disgruntled preoccupation to lean over and steal a hard, fast kiss from his wife. The surprised, chagrinned, look on her face when he pulled back made him chuckle. Meanwhile, their stoic butler suddenly found the ceiling very interesting, and did his best to blend in with the giant pot of shrubbery at the corner of the room. Haru, not expecting his quick, affectionate gesture, promptly forgot about her irritation with him and flushed pink.

"I- wha- you-" She frowned at him then, flustered. "Don't distract me like that!"

He huffed under his breath, entertained by her abashed demeanor. The knowledge that he could affect her so easily was immensely appealing to his masculine ego and every bit as satisfying. "Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured in a silky drawl. "Be good; I'll be back soon."

The lean, rangy Varia unfolded himself from the couch in a graceful, cat-like manner and sent his butler a fleeting smirk.

"Now, let's go deal with the problem."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the golden-haired Varia emerged from the one of the hallways leading to the grand foyer just in time to see a pair of Varia foot soldiers soar majestically through the imposing front doors of the castle before landing spectacularly in a groaning heap on the highly polished marbled floors and finally sliding to a stop at the edge of his boots. The concentrated blast of Storm Flames that had precipitated their unnatural flight had made his brow rise ever so slightly; obviously one of the intruders was a practitioner of his flame type. Curiously enough, the signature of the flame felt bemusingly familiar, but before he could wonder too long about that, another trio of soldiers came flying in through the entrance before crashing unceremoniously into a pile with their fellow colleagues, successfully knocking all five unconscious.

Belphegor narrowed his eyes slightly at that. Foot soldiers or not, these Varia guards were going to have to be trained intensively if they could not even hold a defensive formation long enough for backup to arrive. As if completely agreeing with his thought, a loud, unfamiliar voice from outside echoed his sentiments.

"You pussies really need to train more! What the hell is this lousy defense, useless maggots?! You call yourself guards? I wouldn't even trust you to guard a rotting carcass! Hey! Where do you think you are going, huh?! I'm not done yet! Come back here and let me kick your asses!"

Through it all, Belphegor's eyebrow rose higher and higher the more he overheard all the demanding bellowing going on outside, generously interspersed with what sounded like cries of mercy from the overwhelmed foot soldiers. Those who were still able to move from whatever was going on outside were quickly scrambling into the castle in a frantic attempt to retreat from the intruder, and so panicked were their movements that they failed to notice him standing a small distance away from the commotion going on, desperate to close the huge Flame-proofed doors of the castle before that crazy entity forced its way in. Belphegor could have told them that they would not make it in time, having sensed the surge of Storm Flames being generated from the outside. Once again, the power that thrummed from the unknown wielder felt so strangely familiar to the blonde that it immediately threw up warning flags.

It was only when the powerful blast of pressured air from the Flame attack forced open the doors, coincidentally knocking away the rest of the soldiers, that Belphegor realized with a start just why he felt somewhat connected to the foreign Flame signature—the resonance of the Flame, the unique execution of the attack—it was almost like his own.

Familial.

That realization quickly made alarm bells ring in his mind, and the Storm Varia tensed imperceptibly before he scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Then, he simply waited for the perpetrator to reveal himself, his hard gaze glued to the entrance, perfectly still as he remained partially concealed behind a pillar, taking the opportunity to unobtrusively observe the opponent before he struck and dealt with the situation swiftly and decisively. If the intruder was fast and smart enough, then perhaps the resulting battle would be interesting enough to hold his attention. If not, well, Belphegor decided that he most definitely did not mind returning to his wife and occupying his time with more stimulating pursuits instead.

Then, he saw the girl.

She came in, sauntering confidently into the foyer, still subtly glowing with the Storm Flame she controlled, elegantly twirling a pair of elaborate, lethal, three pronged hunting Sais with one hand, bearing a cocksure smirk on her face _exactly_ like the one he always saw in his own reflection, her exotic, almond shaped eyes amusedly surveying the damage that she had wrought with a degree of pleasure that he could easily relate to. Even from the distance, Belphegor could clearly see the unique color of the teenager's irises. Gold. It was a brilliant shade of gold that simply could not be mistaken for anything else.

_Tsiveone Gold_.

Belphegor stared.

The girl, perhaps sixteen, seventeen at most, was clearly not anyone he recognized as blood kin. In fact, Belphegor was pretty damned sure that he had never seen her before. But there was no one left with the pure Tsiveone Royal blood with the exception of himself—he had made very certain of that when he exterminated every last member of his faithless family—so the obvious resemblance in bone structure and similarity in facial features briefly threw Belphegor in for a loop. The slender, almost unnoticeable platinum circlet that sat on the crown of the teenager's head was a symbol of her own royal status, indicating that she was at least a Princess in rank, which was, of course, once again impossible since he was _the_ last Astonian Prince—or at least, he was supposed to be. With all that in mind, the blonde would have suspected that he was staring at an imposter (a really stupid one) if not for the fact that the girl's Flame signature was resonating perfectly with his own, a sure sign of a direct familial connection.

Brunettes were also rather rare in the bloodline of the Tsiveone royal family; the members of his now extinct clan were predominantly blonde, a nod towards their proud Nordic ancestry, but the girl's long, finely straight hair, tied back in a loose French braid, was comparable in shade to Haru's, and even the tilt of her eyes was cat-like, distinctly Asian, though her nose was straight and narrow, her cheekbones high and aristocratic. It was obvious that she was born from a mixed parentage, with her exotic features and unusual Eurasian beauty, which made the entire situation even stranger—and downright unlikely.

No proud, self-respecting Tsiveone he knew would dare create a child of mixed heritage; no, the royal blood was too sacred and precious to be tainted like that, and thus to date, he had been the only one who had broken rank by ignoring that outdated belief and taking a Japanese woman as his wife. Of course, he was also the last of his line, so it wasn't as if there was anyone around to oppose to his marriage, not that he would have listened even if there was.

So, who was this girl and where did she come from?

"Good god, you guys really are pathetic," the teen muttered then, coming to a stop at the center of the foyer and eyeing the fallen soldiers around her disdainfully. Then, she casually sheathed her Sais into their holsters harnessed to both sides of her upper thighs before straightening to her full height and placing her hands on her hips, and of all things, Belphegor was suddenly struck by the girl's sheer resemblance to Haru. That demeanor; the way she tilted her chin up and scowled, brow furrowing, her eyes narrowing with an irritated, mulish glint, was so exactly like his wife that the Belphegor could only stare and wonder what the hell was going on.

Okay, who was this kid?

"Aki!" the girl turned her head towards the entrance and hollered out of a sudden then, her eyebrow twitching and a vein throbbing visibly on her temple. Belphegor scowled inwardly at the unexpected volume, considerable even from the distance he happened to be away from her, still undetected for now. It was rather apparent to him that this girl had been the one doing all that brash shouting outside; evidently, despite her tall and rangy appearance, she possessed quite the pair of lungs on her and could bellow like a fishmonger.

"Aki! Get your lazy ass over here right now! You better not be slacking out there, or I swear to god I will kick your ass so hard, you will be eating my shoe for! One! Year! Yah! Malaki Akihiko!"

Whoever that guy was, Belphegor decided that he could only feel sorry for that unfortunate soul for having to put up with the sharp-tongued little shrew, blood relative or not. To think that the Varia Castle had been so easily invaded by a bratty kid and whoever else she had thought to bring along on this jaunty little fieldtrip; he was going to personally whip those guards into proper shape after he handled this 'attack.' He had seen enough to ascertain his next course of action, and was about to reveal himself to deal with this ridiculous situation before it got even more embarrassing for the Varia when another figure hurried through the doors and into the foyer.

Belphegor stilled once more and his attention snapped to the newcomer immediately, automatically assessing the potential opponent for weaknesses that he could exploit. It was another girl, and whereas the loudmouthed one at least looked like she knew her way around a battlefield, this one appeared about as far removed from it as he would a ballet troupe. The second girl was even younger than the first, judging by appearance, perhaps only about twelve or thirteen years of age, possessing a slight, petite build, a tiny, exquisite tiara resting on the crown of her head, her hair the same shade of brunette as the first—suggesting a possible familial relationship—only in the latter's case, the rich, chocolate brown mass flowed unbounded down her back in long, soft curls and framed a delicate, heart-shaped face with dainty doll-like features—

There and then, Belphegor decided that he must officially have stepped into the Twilight Zone.

For in that young girl, he suddenly found himself looking at a face he had not seen for over twenty-five years, and even though the hair and those eyes were not the same—the unknown teen's large, soulful doe brown gaze bore a startling, uncanny resemblance to his wife's instead—it was as if he was staring at the ghost of his long dead mother—a much younger version, at least.

The Storm Unit Commander was completely flabbergasted. His What-The-Hell-O-Meter was jumping like mad even as his mind raced to figure out what was going on. He was also getting rather irritated—if this was a joke, then he sure as hell was not finding the punch line particularly funny at all.

"Nee-san, not so loud, please! Everyone is going to hear us coming!" the younger teen hushed in a reproachful and, most importantly, quiet voice. The sweet-faced girl-child bit her lip worriedly before continuing. "Erm, nii-san might be a bit preoccupied at the moment, and won't be joining us for quite some time, I think."

That quickly prompted the noisy one to respond with a scowl that was disconcertingly similar to the one forming on his own face. "Why?!" she barked out fiercely, little white fangs peeking out from under her upper lip in her agitation. "What has that idiot done now?"

The younger sibling shot a slightly worried glance in the direction which she had come from, and then she turned back to her scarily towering sister, who had somehow managed to sprout a pair of horns and a forked tail in the short instance she wasn't paying attention to her. A mildly nervous expression fleeted briefly across the younger girl's face at her sister's intimidating appearance and she shrunk back slightly before recovering herself, shaking her head exasperatedly at the latter's aggressive nature.

"Uh, the thing is that…we might have…sort of…maybe…_lost_…Brat?"

The younger sister cringed inwardly and mentally prepared herself for the resulting fallout. She would not be disappointed.

Loudmouth's eyelid ticked ominously.

"What?! What do you mean that you two _lost_ Brat?! I only left you guys alone for ten minutes, tops! How could you lose him so quickly?!"

The veritable gust of outrage that erupted from the taller teen was almost enough to bowl over her younger counterpart. The gentler sister winced at the sheer volume of her sibling's displeasure and then automatically put out her two hands in an attempt to placate the fuming teen.

"Sorry, Sis! Aki-nii had tried his best, but Brat was starting to fuss and erm, he managed to kick nii-san in a…rather sensitive and inappropriate place during the struggle to be let down…and…Brat ran off the first chance he got. I tried to catch him, but it was getting really dark outside and I tripped over a protruding root- mou, Miyu-nee, don't laugh! When I came running in just now, Aki-nii was still curled up in a ball outside!"

The older teen had lost some of her righteous fury during the midst of her sister's report, and had snorted with amusement in a completely unladylike manner, since she could very well guess just which 'sensitive and inappropriate' body part their crazy hell spawn of a youngest brother had gone after with the single minded determination of a shark scenting fresh blood. She was laughing outright by the end of the younger girl's remarks, throwing her head back in an unrestrainedly tomboyish manner and emitting husky sounding barks of amusement.

"Hah, maybe I won't yell at that idiot too much, then, but only if he is still walking funnily enough to be entertaining."

"Nee-san!" the younger sister protested immediately, frowning disapprovingly. "That's not very nice."

The cocky, confident smirk that appeared on the elder sibling's face only seemed to accentuate her cat-like golden eyes and beautiful exotic features, everything that was the best of both of her parents.

"Too bad. I don't have to be nice. I'm the Crown Princess of Astonia, after all."

* * *

_::tsuzuku::_

* * *

**Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:**

Hello there, my fellow BelHaru fans! I hope all of you are doing well; it's been months since I last stepped into this fandom, but as promised, this is the first chapter of the 'Of Sparrows and Princes' outtakes that I have mentioned awhile back. Like the original series, this fic will be written in arcs, and this is just the first of many to come.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the debut of the BelHaru fanbabies so far (even though most of them aren't babies anymore in this arc). More on them will be revealed soon as the story progresses; I ask you to be patient till then.

**xXxXxXxXxX**

FYI, 'fratellone' and 'sorellona' roughly/informally translates to 'big brother' and 'big sister' in Italian. Similarly, the term 'piccola principessa' means 'little princess' in Italian.

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Last but not least, I'm really glad to be back here again! See you all around soon!

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!

-sllebswap


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** And They Lived Happily Ever After

**Author: **sllebswap

**Beta'd by:** MelissaRose85

**Characters/Pairing: **Miura Haru and Belphegor

**Type:** OneShot Collection (InComplete)

**Genre:** Romance/General/Humor

**Word Count:** 7602

**Rating: **T (Contains content not suitable for children)

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.

**Summary: **TYL ficlet. Outtakes and short stories from the 'Of Sparrows and Princes'-verse. Part One: The royal brats pay a visit to their parents – in the past.

**Chapter Last Revised on:** 17/05/13

* * *

**The Royal Brats: Part II**

* * *

The older girl's arrogant, matter of fact statement was the last clue that Belphegor needed.

All the pieces fit together in that instance, and as ridiculous and unbelievable as the whole situation was, there was no denying all the facts that had been laid out before him; the striking physical resemblance, even the small, hard-to-mimic traits and similarities in mannerisms and behaviors that could only be inherited from parent to child. A small part of him had begun to wonder almost the moment he saw the first teen, and the arrival of the second girl had merely helped to further cement that suspicion. And now, with the former's proud admission, there was just no avoiding the truth anymore.

It seemed that sometime in the near future, he had very likely sired a loudmouthed brat as well as a goody-two-shoes ditz with Haru, if the two whom he was looking at right now were really who he suspected them to be. The blonde still didn't know how he felt about this entirely strange situation of meeting his teenage daughters even before they were physically born in _his_ present, but he was beginning to lean towards being somewhat appalled and chagrined. No doubt he would start to feel a little differently once the suspended shock and lingering disbelief dissipated from his system, not to mention, if what the pair was talking about earlier were to be believed, then it would seem that he and Haru didn't just have those two as offspring. It appeared that they had at least another future son running loose around the Varia property somewhere, and for Belphegor's own peace of mind, he hoped that the yet to be properly identified kid was not the complete idiot as his sisters seemed to imply that he was.

And then there was that 'Brat' persona whom the girls were talking about, whose personality had so far aptly described anything from a troublemaking pet monkey to, god forbid, yet another child of his and his wife. Honestly, Belphegor didn't know which would be worse. It was apparent that both he and Haru had done their best to revive his near extinct clan in the future, and on the bright side, it seemed unlikely that the Tsiveone Royal Family would be dying out anytime soon—at least the servants would be glad to know that.

On the not-so-bright side, his children from the future looked and behaved like _morons_.

The older girl was loud and brash and took every opportunity to bellow her displeasure to the world, and the younger girl appeared to be something of a timid airhead. He understood intrinsically that those two would fit very well with Haru, but that should be expected, especially if his wife was their mother like he suspected her to be.

Still, he was admittedly curious about their abilities, and now that he knew the identities of those who had dared to intrude upon the castle, he no longer found it quite as irritating that the guards had all been so soundly defeated. At least it proved that those brats could fight and hold their own at a bare minimum level, but that still did not say much about their combat prowess. Any Tom, Dick, and Harry with a halfway decent Flame ability could easily overwhelm their lesser counterparts, so it wasn't as if they had done anything spectacular so far. He would hold them to a much higher standard since they were the fruits borne of his loins, and the royal blood that flowed in their veins would demand no less. Therefore, it was time to up the ante, and Belphegor was very interested to see how the next generation of his family would perform.

His uniquely designed scalpels materialized soundlessly between the knuckles of his hands almost as if by magic, resembling sharp, lethal claws that gleamed dangerously under the light. A small smirk crept onto his face, and concealed from view behind the pillar and silently observing, he kept his sights on the sisters—who were still nattering on about something or another without a care in the world, seemingly ignoring the fact that they were still deep in enemy territory, much to his increasing annoyance and disbelief—and watched for an opening. He didn't have to wait long before they made the rookie mistake of showing him their backs, and he immediately seized upon the opportunity to swiftly launch his attack.

Only the barest, precise amount of Storm Flames accompanied the swift flight of his sleek, aerodynamic blades, the extra burst of power increasing the sheer speed and force of the attack exponentially, making it near to impossible to evade. His accuracy was absolute as usual; he had targeted at the vital points of the body and was quite looking forward to seeing how his future spawns would handle this. At best, they would somehow be able to avoid being impaled by his knives, and at worst, well, there might be some extensive hemorrhaging, but nothing that could kill them right away. That would be the least they deserved if they could not even avoid such a simple attack.

But somehow, despite Belphegor's less than remarkable opinion of the two girls, he was not really surprised when they reacted to his intent almost immediately. Without even turning back to look, the younger teen spun around and dropped to the ground reflexively, falling out of range and landing in a crouch facing him, quickly knocking away the only blade she could not dodge with a forearm reinforced with a flare of powerful Sun Flames. The older one turned abruptly, her three-pronged hunting Sais already unsheathed and firmly grasped in her hands, effortlessly parrying away the knives heading her way even as she immediately leapt into action, fearlessly lunging straight towards him with aggressive enthusiasm. With an impressive burst of speed, the teen crossed the considerable distance between them in the blink of an eye and boldly initiated contact, an eager grin on her face and her golden eyes gleaming with the excitement of impending battle.

Their lack of hesitation in their defense told him that they must have sensed his presence from the very beginning after all, and had deliberately led him to believe that their guards were lowered and they weren't paying attention so as to lure him out. Not bad.

He moved to meet the older teen's attack automatically, the much shorter blade of his scalpel clashing against the longer shaft of her Sai's _monouchi _and, miraculously, steadily holding the larger, heavier weapon at bay. For a skinny teenage girl, the sheer power behind her strike was considerable and unhesitating, telling him that she was very familiar with her weapon and had most definitely worked and practiced with it quite often. Still, Belphegor had crossed blades with much more formidable foes in the past, and he easily held his ground against her.

He angled his blade slightly to cause her weapon to lose traction, but she twisted her Sai sharply at the very last moment, attempting to trap his scalpel with the pronged guards and wrench it loose from his hand. He was forced to disengage or risk losing his weapon, and then he nimbly sidestepped, evading the incoming thrust of her Sai, taking advantage of the opening she revealed to grab her by the arm and jerk her forward. The girl promptly lost her balance and stumbled past him with a loud, nasty curse, and with the speed of a striking rattlesnake, he turned and launched his blades at her again with full intent to draw blood, only for her to recover swiftly as well and twist around abruptly to defend herself, quickly rearranging her hold on her Sai with a reverse grip so that the thin blade of the _monouchi_ fell in line along her forearm as she raised it to block his strike.

Their weapons clashed again with a jarring ring of metal against metal, and although she was straining from the effort to keep her father (and his dangerous intent) at bay, the smirk on the brunette teen's face did not waver. In fact, the girl's gleeful smile widened to a grin, and her eyes were glittering with the joy of the fight. It was obvious that the brat was at least well taught in the discipline of her chosen weaponry, and Belphegor had to grudgingly admit that her reaction time was surprisingly quick as well. Most importantly, the girl seemed to shed her loud, idiotic personality when in battle, becoming less brash and more focused on her opponent, and it also didn't hurt at all that she was a Storm Flame wielder like he was.

Hmm, perhaps his future heir was not as useless as he had first thought.

Just as he was thinking that, the cocky brat shot him a fanged grin and spoke to him for the first time. "Heh, you sure took your own sweet time coming out here, old man. Did you misplace your walker on the way or something?"

Belphegor could not help himself; he stared at her in disbelief; his pride and vanity as an extremely good looking and highly sought after Crown Prince had just been dealt a heavy blow—and by his own daughter too, to boot. Not to mention, this was not the first time he had been referenced to as an 'old man;' earlier on by Haru and her overactive imagination, and now by the offspring that technically had not even been conceived yet, let alone born.

Could it be that…_he was really starting to look old_?

Unbidden, the image of a doddering old fart dressed in a white singlet, Hawaiian shorts and flip flops, complete with a bald, shiny pate and wrinkled skin generously sprinkled with liver spots floated through his mind, much to his horror.

That ridiculous line of thinking, completely inappropriate and hardly conducive towards the situation at hand, was enough to give him pause. Unfortunately, that mere second of visibly appalled hesitation was all the cunning brat needed to shove his blades aside and retreat quickly to reposition herself in a more defensive stance. Belphegor's attention snapped back to the impudent teen, and he honed a deadly glare at the brat.

"Why, you little…"

The unrepentant, fox-like grin on the girl's face did nothing to improve his rapidly souring mood, and he was suddenly struck by the instinctive urge to pinch the kid's cheeks until she resembled a squishy tomato. The strangely paternal (but violent) reaction was thwarted before the golden-haired Varia could automatically move to put it to action; he hadn't forgotten about the other child, and when his senses started tingling with warning, he heeded his sixth sense immediately, half turning and tilting his head out of the way just in time to avoid a Sun Flame-infused punch that had been aimed straight at the base of his skull.

"HYAAaaaahh!" the younger teen cried out bravely as she launched her attack, hurling herself determinedly into the fight even though it was obvious that she was completely uncomfortable being on the offensive. She was also needlessly announcing her moves for some reason or another, but when he moved to neutralize her attacks, firmly keeping the other troublesome sister in sight at all times as well, Belphegor was pleasantly surprised to learn that the younger kid was actually rather well-versed in unarmed combat for her age. Her stances were textbook perfect and the ease in which she flowed from one move to another indicated frequent practice and a firm dedication in the art of fighting. She was small, swift and extremely agile, her doe brown eyes—Haru's eyes—glowing with determination to help her sibling, but unfortunately, she still wasn't fast enough to counter his speed and experience, and Belphegor did not allow her to land even a glancing hit on him, instinctively leery of the Sun Flames that coated her fists.

It was a damned good thing that he hadn't, as the blonde quickly realized when he deliberately tricked her into attacking by pretending to reveal an opening. The petite, angelic looking child had come at him with a very quick aerial attack, but he sidestepped at the very last moment and lashed out suddenly to grab her by the ankle instead, her limb still outstretched in a kick aimed at him, snatching her out of midair and making use of his momentum to hurl her away from him with perfect timing. Just as he had intended, she had promptly careened with a yelp towards the older teen, who had been circling around them like a wolf and lying in wait for the opportunity to attack again, causing the two to crash into each other and forcing the younger girl to frantically redirect her attack from her sister to the ground. The solid marble beneath her fist had literally exploded into fine rubble upon impact, much to his hidden astonishment.

Belphegor quickly found himself reluctantly impressed with his future kids even as the older one was yelling loudly in the background about nearly being killed whereas the younger one was apologizing with chagrin and clumsily trying to get off her extremely pissed off sister. His brats were overflowing with potential even though their characters were a bit weird, but on the other hand, they could have been born complete imbeciles instead, so it really could have been a lot worse. At least their individual quirks just made them…unique.

…

Who was he trying to kid; his brats were freaking oddballs. Belphegor didn't know whether he should be proud of that fact or not. He settled for standing over them and watching them attempt to disentangle from each other, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression betraying none of his thoughts. The older one was quite visibly sulking by then whereas the younger one was hurriedly trying to scramble back to her feet. He waited a bit more before he finally spoke, snorting dismissively as he did so.

"You two are still decades too young if you actually believe that you can take me on," he commented then, and there was no denying the hint of arrogant amusement that leaked from his tone. In response, his older daughter replied with a rather foul epithet in their native Astonian tongue that quickly turned her sister's ears bright red.

Belphegor's brow lifted. So his kid was a potty mouth in addition to being brash and loud, even if she was a girl. And wait; weren't most girls supposed to be polite, soft spoken, and demure, especially at that age? It was certainly how those aristocratic young ladies appeared to him whenever he was forced to associate with them, but then again, Haru had never acted like any noblewoman he had seen before, so perhaps this was an inherited trait? His wife was nowhere near as loud as their offspring though, but she could likely give their kid a run for her money if provoked into a fine temper…

Belphegor wasn't sure how he felt about having a teenage daughter who was so very unlike those simpering twits, though one thing was for sure; he most definitely did not appreciate being called a perverted old goat by his own child, amongst other things.

"Miyu-nee!" the younger girl's dismayed, admonishing tone provided a very nice counterpoint to the heavy, metallic thunk of his scalpel's hilt smacking right onto the forehead of the rebellious brat. Said brat hissed and promptly scowled ferociously at her sire, at the same time clapping her hand over her throbbing forehead and looking particularly defiant. Still, she kept her mouth shut this time and refrained from retaliating in any way, grumpily rubbing the rapidly developing lump on her head and wondering how on earth her father was still using the same technique of hurling the butt end of his blades at her head whenever she annoyed him too much, even when this was technically the very first time this past version of him had met her.

The Crown Princess growled inwardly; at least he hadn't done that embarrassing cheek pinching that was both excruciatingly humiliating _and_ painful, which she had never been able to avoid no matter how far he was from her or how fast she tried to escape him. It was one of her wily parent's many ways of keeping her and her siblings in line—psychological pain via explicit embarrassment was also a type of pain that most teenagers found excruciating after all, and her evil father was always more than eager to gleefully dish it out in front of as many spectators as physically possible.

"Miyu nee-san is just joking, daddy! The two of you do this often where we come from-" The younger girl froze suddenly then, a panicked expression on her face when she abruptly realized that she had just carelessly divulged details that she wasn't supposed to reveal. Her doe brown eyes quickly filled with distress and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "I didn't just say that!"

To her father's credit, he didn't seem particularly surprised by what she revealed. He did pause momentarily at being called 'daddy' by the innocent-looking, sweet-natured young teen, but that was more because he had trouble reconciling with the fact that he had somehow managed to sire such a guileless and earnestly sincere child, as opposed to the foul-mouthed, cunning brat who was (apparently) her older sister.

Being called 'daddy' was a rather novel experience though, and being addressed as one with the pure trust of a child who was quite obviously the offspring created by himself and his wife quickly awoke something in his subconscious, hibernating all this while. It might or might not have been the beginnings of paternal instinct, but there was no denying the faint stirrings of possessiveness and even grudging pride as he looked at his two daughters.

"So, I guessed correct. You two really are from the future," he remarked at last, completely unsurprised. The two girls stared at him, and then the older one scowled harder.

"Shit, I lost the bet," she muttered crossly, and her father just looked at her.

"Bet?" he asked sardonically. He was, of course, ignored by the overgrown brat sulking in the corner, but his ever helpful younger daughter quickly explained the situation. It was not bad having a goody two shoes for a kid after all, he promptly decided there and then. The child was gentle, polite and respectful, if only somewhat shy and hesitant, which was rather strange since neither he nor Haru were the quiet type. But then again, if the rest of the kid's siblings were just like Loudmouth over there (once again, Belphegor sincerely prayed to whatever god up there that was willing to take pity on him that such was not the case), then her restraint would be perfectly understandable.

"Ah! Miyu-nee made a bet with Aki-nii that you'd take at least an hour to figure out the truth, but Aki-nii said that there was no way you'd need that long, and he was pretty sure that you'd take at most five minutes to realize what is going on. He mentioned something about resonating Flame signatures before he wandered off to do some research… Amazing! Nii-san was completely correct!"

The young teen's remark was tinted with admiration, whereas her elder sister twitched and looked even more mutinous, if possible. Then, a mildly calculating expression fleeted past those cat-like eyes as she briefly considered the younger brunette, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, and that severely aggravated look on the future Crown Princess's face was quickly replaced by a deliberately neutral expression as the older child sidled up craftily to her sibling and slung her arm around the younger girl's shoulder.

"Hey, my cute little Hotaru imouto-_chan_," the older sister purred then, tilting her head sideways in a coquettish yet haughty manner, tossing her hair back in a coolly elegant gesture and pouting ever so slightly at her impressionable younger sibling. The older teen shed her petulant brat image with disturbing ease and promptly took on a silky, seductress role, hooking an index finger underneath her sister's chin and lifting the latter's face towards her own. With a lazy, half lidded gaze, she peered at her sister beneath dense, sooty lashes.

"Shall we keep the outcome of this bet between us for now? This is not completely necessary for Malaki to know, hmm?"

Her nonplussed sister just blinked owlishly at her outlandish actions, whereas their father was torn between overt amusement and disbelief at his idiot daughter's antics. It was actually hilarious as hell to see the older teen attempt to manipulate her _female_ sibling with her developing womanly wiles, but at the same time, it was also rather disturbing because the brat was actually doing it correctly, and with the amount of charm and pheromones she was giving off, would have succeeded in seducing any random man into giving into whatever she wanted.

Unfortunately, her sister was anything but male, and the younger girl just frowned reproachfully at her nee-san. "It's not nice to lie, Miyu-nee. Besides, even if we keep quiet about it, Aki-nii will still find out eventually, so shouldn't you just accept your defeat gracefully this time and learn not to bet with nii-san anymore? You never win anyway- _eow_!"

The younger teen squeaked with pain when her now no-longer-charming sister grabbed her cheeks between her fingers and pinched. Actually, the older girl was sporting a hair raising grin by now as she deliberately stretched the skin of her sibling's face further and further apart.

"Don't jinx me like that, my cute little Hotaru imouto-chan," the seventeen year old bantered with saccharine sweetness. "I'm going to win over that idiot one day, just you wait and see. But for now, you won't say anything about this insignificant little bet, right?"

She proceeded to repeat those exact flirty, sultry actions from before, only this time, it looked plain terrifying and completely exemplified the Tsiveone Royal Family's traditional style of dealing with troublesome entities; when in doubt, intimidate the hell out of your opponent.

The younger girl was not exactly terrified though, having sat through her sister's repeatedly identical threats one too many times, but those steel-like fingers still hurt something fierce, and as a result, involuntary tears quickly welled up in her large eyes. The shimmering moisture swam in her doe-like gaze and effectively made her look even younger than she already was, until it went to the point where she was starting to resemble an innocent, baby woodland creature that was being unjustly mistreated.

Belphegor just stood there and watched as his idiot daughter's plan backfired on her in the most ridiculous way. He was starting to wonder if his heir was just really smart or really stupid. Perhaps she was an idiot savant? That would explain her flawless execution of various techniques and then promptly applying them to the most retarded situations.

"Nee-san…! That…hurts!" The wounded expression on the younger girl's was enough to tug on the heartstrings of even the most hardened of criminals. Alarmed by her pained cry, the older teen hurriedly released her hold on the her sibling, a quick flash of concern fleeting past her eyes—she had not meant to harm her sister and was immediately stricken with mild guilt.

Hotaru took the opportunity of her sister's brief lapse to dart blithely towards the parental figure who had carefully guarded her and looked out for her wellbeing her entire life. It was instinct that prompted the younger princess to run to her father for protection, innately trusting that he would keep her safe and out of harm's way like he always had. Her sister promptly snapped out of it and tried to make a grab for her, but she was just a step too late and the smaller brunette slipped successfully behind their sire, her long, curly hair fluttering behind her even as she turned back to face her elder sibling from the rear of their slightly tensed parent and lightly stuck out her tongue at the older girl.

Miyuko was not amused. And most importantly, unlike her younger sister, she still remembered that they were back in the past. Nearly eighteen years back in the past, to be precise. As such, she did not miss the way this younger version of their father had stiffened automatically in a defensive response at her sister's sudden proximity, barely refraining from lashing out instinctively at the unfamiliar presence of his third child, even if he did not know it now.

As the entire family had witnessed at one time or another, their parent had a lightning fast reaction time when it came to dealing with unknown threats and he was also well known for being rather trigger happy. As such, the Crown Princess could only feel relief that he had not reacted to her younger sibling's abrupt nearness by sinking a blade hilt deep into her forehead as he was wont to do to those pesky assassins stupid enough to try their luck with his children in the distant future. That would have been rather difficult to explain to their parents when they returned to their own time. Still, Miyuko was quite irritated by her twit of a sister and her rash, unthinking actions.

"Hotaru, you little idiot! Get back here! Don't be so stupidly trusting! He doesn't even know us yet-"

Miyuko's warning came a little too late, for Belphegor had already reached behind him and swiftly snagged his thirteen year old daughter from the future by the back of her neck, lifting her by the collar and easily transporting the small girl back around to his line of sight. The young teen promptly eep-ed as she was brought before the veiled gaze of her unsmiling father, and it didn't help that she also happened to be dangling a few feet off the ground like an errant kitten that had just been caught rolling around in a saucer of milk.

Her older sister barely refrained from palming her face in exasperation. That stupid Hotaru. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

For a brief moment, the Storm Varia just stared impassively at those sheepish brown eyes that bore an uncanny resemblance to his wife's. To the thirteen year old's credit, she did not shy away from him, and also did not attempt to wriggle loose from his hold. The child remained still and trusting in his hold, just like a young feline who had been caught in the mouth of its parent.

Hotaru tilted her head slightly and looked apprehensively at her father. "Daddy?" she whispered hesitantly, growing uncertain as the silence stretched. Standing a small ways behind her, Miyuko hovered impotently, not sure how this past version of their father would react. The Belphegor of this present had not become a father yet and knew next to nothing about his offspring, and therefore he had no obligation whatsoever to protect them. Knowing her father, the situation could go either way depending on his mood, and right now, he appeared to be intently scrutinizing Hotaru like she was some kind of alien life form that had suddenly appeared before him.

Belphegor twitched subtly then. It was a near unnoticeable tic, but it perfectly concealed the blonde's somewhat disturbed reaction towards his younger daughter. Even at the tender age of thirteen, the young girl was already showing every sign of one day growing up to become a great beauty; her expressive eyes were soulful and luminous, her nose small and pert, her rosy mouth like a cherub's. Her endearing, dainty face was heart shaped and perfectly formed, the soft, creamy skin she had inherited from her mother glowed with youth and vitality; there was no denying that both he and Haru had created beautiful offspring.

Belphegor barely refrained from giving into a slight shudder even as, morbidly enough, he could not seem to take his gaze off of the young teen.

Yes, she truly was a beautiful child. One who also happened to look _hideously_ _cute_ to him at the moment, and unfortunately for him and his discomfited nerves, she would most likely remain that way until the day in the distant future where she would finally grow into her looks. Unlike her elder sister who appeared quite tomboyish by nature and gave off the aura of an offended porcupine carrying a perpetual chip on its shoulder, this kid was more like a little fawn with her large, guileless eyes and innocent, utterly trusting manner, and Belphegor had a good guess just from whom she had inherited that trait.

There were none from his side of the family capable of exuding such purity and innocence, after all, and not surprisingly, he was completely not used to being viewed with such trust and childish faith, to be depended upon by an individual who clearly believed that he could do no wrong and gave off the impression that she thought him invincible.

The innocent expectation and belief in him from this child whom he hardly knew, even though instincts and common sense told him that she was undoubtedly one of his own, made him distinctly uncomfortable. There was only one other who looked at him with that familiar expression of trust and faith, and that was the woman he married, and not quite incidentally, the only female who had managed to reserve his affection all for herself in exchange for her own.

He had grown used to his sparrow's loving, devoted regard, in fact, he fully expected it even, but this was something a bit different from the intimate bond between lovers and soul mates he and his wife shared, and at the same time, something similar as well. It was also a form of unconditional affection and acceptance, but this one was borne from a familial connection, by _blood_, and it suddenly struck Belphegor with great force that _he had a family now_.

Or rather, he would have a family that belonged to him sometime in the near future, one he would not need to zealously guard himself against, paranoid and suspicious of their every intention, and that was something so novel to the blonde that he actually had no idea what to make of it.

Belphegor snapped out of his thoughts and focused his attention back on his two daughters. They were both staring at him as well, the older one with wariness in her golden eyes, her tensed form suggesting that she was ready to step in immediately should he decide to harm her sister, while the latter continued to dangle off his fingers like a harmless ornament. The elder child had the right idea to be careful around him; he was not their father yet, after all. The younger girl was more carelessly trusting, and he frowned at that before deliberately dropping her. The child squeaked in protest at the sudden feeling of free fall, but was quick enough to recover herself and land on her own feet.

Belphegor ignored the bewildered look on the younger teen's face as she eyed him in confusion, but silently approved of the way her elder sister promptly darted in and snatched her protectively out of the way, shoving her sibling behind her (but not before clouting the featherbrained little twit between the ears) and quickly turning back to keep him in her sights guardedly.

Their father just re-crossed his arms over his chest and scowled fiercely, giving them a hard, narrow-eyed look that quickly reduced even the older teen's brash bravado into sullen silence. Never mind that his long fringe covered his eyes perfectly, his children still understood from his veiled expression that he meant business, and absently, he wondered how often he had subjected them to his displeasure for them to meekly fall in line so quickly.

It was a rather nifty trick, nevertheless.

"You two…" he started to speak at last, and then he paused meaningfully to look at them. The older brunette girl started to fidget, a small scowl starting to form on her face as well, growing irritated with the way he was deliberately drawing things out, while the younger one peeked out cautiously from behind her sister and looked increasingly concerned. Belphegor decided to check himself and change tactics.

He quit frowning and smiled lazily instead.

His children promptly looked alarmed and even downright cowed, much to his increasing interest. This would definitely work to his advantage, he thought gleefully as his smile widened to form a dangerous grin. The girls' eyes grew large with trepidation, and he could almost see them cringe ever so slightly backwards in response. Heh, this was going to be quite amusing, at the very least.

"Well now," he purred in a distinctly intimidating manner. "Care to tell me what is going on?"

* * *

The quick pitter patter of little feet was surprisingly loud in the silent, deserted hallways of the castle as a single three year old forged on determinedly to win the game of hide and seek that his siblings had initiated. First one to find Mommy wins, and no letting any of those soldiers catch him. The little blonde child was bound and determined to be the first to get to his mother's side. The outing with his brother and sisters had proved to be extremely boring, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his most favorite person and just stay snuggled in her loving embrace. His Mommy was the bestest and prettiest mommy in the whole world, and he had to hurry back to her to protect her from the bad Daddy who was always trying to do naughty things to her.

He had wanted to go to his parent straight away but Nii-chan had to go be a poopy head and refuse to let him go. So he had to bite and kick to get his older brother to release him, and it was hard because his legs were so short and he had to wiggle extra hard to get loose before he could hit that spot that Daddy had taught him to aim at the next time bad people tried to catch him again. Nii-chan had quickly let go of him in a great hurry after that, and he had slipped past little nee-chan and darted off before anyone could catch him (a rather impressive feat considering how his siblings were no slouches themselves).

He would be the one to reach Mommy first! It was very dark outside however, and although it was a bit scary, he did not cry. There was no reason to do that when there was no one around to give him candy or do what he wanted so as to pacify him to stop, \ so he had learned to cry only when there were nee-chans or Mommy or other women around. Most importantly, crying in front of Daddy was a big no-no—the last time he did that whilst throwing a huge tantrum, Daddy had promptly locked him inside the broom cupboard and 'accidentally' forgot him for an hour. By the time his Father let him out again, he had been so terrified and exhausted from screaming that he couldn't even produce a squeak of noise. The young boy had learned an invaluable lesson that day; a) an irritated Daddy is a scary Daddy, and b) never, ever, throw tantrums in front of Daddy or he would become _even_ scarier.

Still, where Mommy was concerned, Brat would willingly risk his sire's displeasure to protect her. The little blonde loved his mother the most in the world, and when he grew up, he was going to kick his Daddy's butt and then marry her, and maybe little nee-chan as well, because she always cuddled him and gave him the yummiest treats, and smelled almost as nice as Mommy, and was not scary at all like big nee-chan. They would be one big happy family—big nee-chan would be their bodyguard and nii-chan could serve as the butler, and mommy and little nee-chan would pepper him with hugs and kisses all day long and Daddy could be the chambermaid.

Yes, life would be great if that could really happen, but for now, there was still Mommy to find, and even though this place looked almost like home, it didn't feel quite the same; the shadowy darkness of the empty passageways seemed much more intimidating and ominous, and without his older siblings' accompaniment, everything around him looked so much bigger and not as friendly, towering over his small figure in a distinctly menacing manner. As such, despite his childish bravado, Brat was growing increasingly concerned. Despite his mischievous and petulant nature, the smallest Tsiveone Prince was but a little baby still, and it had been a rather long day for the young boy. He was tired and hungry, and after sneaking into the castle from the back gardens—none of the guards were actually watching out for a three year old intruder, which made his entry very easy—he wanted nothing more than for his mother to appear before him, sweep him up in a protective, maternal embrace and gently soothe his fussing demeanor.

But the loving form of his mother did not materialize before him, and neither were his siblings anywhere in the vicinity. The little golden-haired child's footsteps slowed, and then eventually came to a stop. He was completely lost, stranded all alone in the middle of nowhere, and slowly, his breathing became just a bit jagged, distress slowly creeping upon those babyish, cherubic features despite his best efforts to be a big boy, and then a tiny little whimper escaped him. The small, pitiful sound, so much like a young puppy's injured cry, reverberated down the hallway and quickly garnered the attention of an unexpected ally.

Lussuria was on his way to see if Belphegor needed any support in repelling the intruders when he heard the peculiar noise. It was a soft keen, and it seemed to originate from the infrequently used hallway he had just passed. The sound was rather unusual, and caught by curiosity, the Sun Unit Commander made a quick detour to investigate the source.

Imagine his surprise when he saw a very young child standing all alone, right in the middle of the passageway, looking as if on the verge of tears. Lussuria paused and stared, momentarily taken aback; it was a well-known fact that there were no children living on the Varia grounds, and this one was obviously of an extremely tender age, barely passed toddlerhood, in fact. Stranger still, the little one bore a striking resemblance to his blonde haired colleague, and even if Lussuria was somehow completely ignorant to the obvious familial resemblance, then that long, sweeping fringe of burnished golden hair that covered the upper portion of the child's face as well as the tiny silver crown that sat on that small head were dead giveaways to the youngster's blood relation to Belphegor.

So now the question was; who was this child and where were his/her parents?

To Lussuria's chagrin, he could not seem to confidently pinpoint the gender of the young tot. For one, the child was outfitted in a rather gender neutral apparel—a cute tiger themed romper suit that was an eye wrenching shade of orange with tan stripes, complete with a stuffed tiger head hoodie and a bouncy tail to match—and for another, the little kid also possessed tousled, shoulder length blonde hair that made it hard to tell if he/she was a boy or a girl.

One thing was for certain though, boy or girl, the little one standing still a small ways away from him was undeniably precocious, even when looking obviously upset. The little darling's downtrodden demeanor tugged at the heartstrings of the Sun Varia, and Lussuria's maternal instinct, never far below the surface, was quickly roused.

"Well, what do we have here?" the colorful haired male asked in a kindly manner even as he slowly approached the sniffling child, showing that he meant no harm. He earned the youngster's attention immediately, and was promptly scrutinized by the suddenly quiet kid. The little one tilted his head (upon closer inspection, Lussuria decided that the child was most likely a young boy) and carefully considered the flamboyantly looking man who was wearing sunglasses even though it was already nighttime.

The child was quite obviously wary of him—initially, that was. Then, surprisingly enough, he quickly relaxed his guard and approached the older male with a bemusing level of trust, and Lussuria's eyebrow shot up to his hairline when the boy tugged unabashedly at his pant leg and looked up at him.

"Lulu," the boy spoke at last in a demanding, but still incredibly adorable manner. The childish lilt of his babyish voice was extremely endearing to the surrogate godmother of all the future born Tsiveone children (even if the man himself was unaware of the distinguished position he held just yet), and Lussuria was quickly charmed by the little tyke's cuteness.

"Lulu, Lulu," the youngster called out again, trying to quickly gain the attention of the adult. Lussuria was inwardly baffled by the child's address of him. Lulu? Of course, his full name would be more than a mouthful for the little boy to pronounce without tripping all over it, so this abbreviated version did make sense; but how was it possible for a kid he had never met before to know his name, and at the same time, behave around him with such familiarity and ease?

Somewhat mystified, the tall Sun Unit Commander lowered himself to a crouch before the much smaller child, who, when compared to him, was absolutely tiny in contrast. Lussuria gave the little boy his full concentration.

"Hmm, you are not Bel from the past by any chance, are you?" he asked amiably to the cute little darling.

The boy shook his head almost immediately. "No! Am Brat!" He thumped himself proudly in the chest, almost as if pleased to show off the fact that he knew his own name. Then, he quickly looked to the older man again. "Lulu, halp find Mummy, pleeze?"

The little boy proceeded to strike a cute pose that never failed to get the adults around him scrambling to do his bidding. Curling his little hands into tiny fists, he raised and then arranged them by both sides of his rosy cheeks in a classic kitty pose, and at the same time, proceeded to emit so much cuteness from his expectant stare that the immediate background around the youngster promptly sparkled with glamour.

The veil of long fringe did not seem to hinder the devastating effect of the young boy's actions at all, and it was all Lussuria could do not to grab the child and cuddle the life out of the ridiculously adorable little thing. By now, the Sun Varia was rather sure that this was definitely not the past version of his fellow Commander; there was just no way Bel could seriously be this cute even at this young, tender age. He was also beginning to form his own suspicions regarding the mysterious origin of the youngster standing before him—and there was no time better than now to confirm his theory.

He would bet heavily that today's invasion of the castle was most likely related to this boy's abrupt appearance, and Lussuria beamed at the youngster who was no doubt the future offspring of Bel and Haru-chan—he had clearly inherited his father's looks and his mother's spunk.

Still, to name his own son Brat was really pushing the limits of responsible parenthood… and Lussuria could only think of one person of his acquaintance who was frivolous enough to do so.

"Of course I'll help you find your mommy, little one!" the colorful haired martial arts expert agreed with a large grin. Oh ho, this evening was definitely shaping up to be a very interesting one indeed. He wondered if Bel had seen his yet unborn son already.

Brat put up no resistance as his surrogate godmother picked him up and headed back down the hallway. The child clung onto the older man's neck automatically like a koala bear, content and pleased now that someone was taking him to see his mother.

"So, who is your mommy?" Lussuria asked the very young child teasingly as he steadily made his way to Bel's wing of the castle.

The little golden-haired prince did not hesitate to answer, utterly confident of his childish reasoning.

"Mommy is mommy!" he replied staunchly in an outraged manner, once again, being very cute as he did so, in Lussuria's opinion. He was hard pressed not to laugh at the child's offended tone, as if he could not believe that the older man did not know such simple things.

"Huh. Is that right. Then, who is your daddy?" Lussuria asked then, continuing this little game that they had going on.

Not having learnt how to lie effectively just yet, the child drew back slightly in an appalled manner and scrunched up his nose in an unmistakable, but once again, hopelessly adorable, grimace. He looked at the Sun Varia and then finally declared in an amusingly serious stage whisper.

"Daddy is a scary and naughty man!"

Lussuria found that he simply could not hold it in any longer; he burst into merry peals of laughter.

Well, that sounded just like Bel, alright.

* * *

_::tsuzuku::_

* * *

**Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:**

And another chapter done! Thanks for all the support, guys. I'm really surprised (pleasantly so) by all the nice reviews and comments for the first chapter of 'And They Lived Happily Ever After.' Here's to hoping that you lot will enjoy this latest installment as well.

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Well, this chapter is pretty self-explanatory, so I think I will just end it here. Thanks for reading, and until next time!

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!

-sllebswap


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** And They Lived Happily Ever After

**Author: **sllebswap

**Beta'd by:** MelissaRose85

**Characters/Pairing: **Miura Haru and Belphegor

**Type:** OneShot Collection (InComplete)

**Genre:** Romance/General/Humor

**Word Count:** 6689

**Rating: **T (Contains content not suitable for children)

**Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.

**Summary: **TYL ficlet. Outtakes and short stories from the 'Of Sparrows and Princes'-verse. Part One: The royal brats pay a visit to their parents – in the past.

**Chapter Last Revised on:** 01/06/13

* * *

**The Royal Brats: Part III**

* * *

Haru speared a forkful of the decadent dessert and slowly brought it to her mouth, blissfully savoring the exquisite taste and texture of the sinfully delicious honey yogurt cheesecake as it melted on her tongue. A delighted smile promptly graced her features; the cake was a perfect blend of delicate flavors, neither too sweet nor too bland.

"Mmm, Marco-san has outdone himself once again," the brunette remarked after a happy sigh, her face alit with the simple pleasure of having once again eaten one of the castle's resident patissier's exquisite creations. "I'm going to be spoiled if he continues to pamper me like this."

Kneeling before the coffee table beside the contented Princess, Francesca smiled slightly at the young woman's remark even as the latter stared longingly at the rest of the cheesecake, all but tempting her to have another bite.

"Your Highness, please eat more. Marco has painstakingly created this particular desert to suit your dietary needs. All the ingredients used have been carefully handpicked and procured from the best selections there are out there." At Haru's surprised expression, the housekeeper calmly continued to elaborate.

"The honey used in this cheesecake, for example, is pure, crude and unprocessed Yemeni Sidr Honey that has been harvested only during the winter season and infused with highest grade fresh bee royal jelly and bee pollen. The dairy products used to make this cake are acquired from purely grass fed Holstein cattle, the freshest source that can be found in Tuscany, and therefore very healthy and nutritious. No processed ingredients have been used whatsoever, and the same goes for all the meals that have been prepared especially for you, Your Highness."

Haru gawked briefly at Francesca's extensive explanation. She had honestly never realized the amount of care that the servants had taken to oversee her diet, putting in so much effort and consideration for every single course she took, and especially dessert as well, her most cherished and favorite part of the meal. The brunette was touched, and the grateful look on her expressive features said as much. She smiled shyly at the older woman.

"Thank you all very much for looking after me," she told the housekeeper in an earnest manner. "I'm really very appreciative."

Francesca lowered her head slightly and loyally replied. "It is our pleasure to serve you, Your Highness."

The housekeeper took the small plate of cheesecake from the coffee table and handed it to the younger woman. "Now eat, Your Highness," she urged softly. "Your body will need the extra nutrition very soon, so you should eat more."

Haru was more than happy to oblige, so she accepted the slice of cake and proceeded to dig in.

"What do you mean, Francesca-san?" Haru asked curiously even as she nibbled on a bit more of the delicious confection.

The brunette was glancing periodically at her laptop screen in between bites of cake and quietly chatting with Francesca; she had placed the servers on high alert and all the preventative security measures had been set into place, but it was still better to be on standby in case something did occur, even if Haru highly doubted that would happen. In the past year since she came to Italy to work for the Varia, there had only been three cases of cyber-attacks on the Vongola servers, and none had made it past the viciously offensive firewall she had erected to protect the immense information vaults and intricate data passageways of the Famiglia. None of those groups ever got a second chance to try again, either; whereas she had effortlessly handled the computer side of things, the various Varia executives on duty were more than equipped to deal with the all too physical task of removing those individuals whose nosiness was hardly welcomed.

Francesca spoke then, drawing her mistress from her musings even as she poured a large cup of fragrant chamomile tea and then proceeded to set the steaming brew on the table right before the younger woman. "Your body will need to be prepared and well-nourished so as to not only be able to support a pregnancy, but to also carry the fetus to full term, Princess Haru. At the same time, the richer diet that we have prepared for you recently is also meant to boost your fertility levels so that it will be easier for you and His Highness to conceive a child."

Haru, who had been in the process of swallowing a mouthful of cake, had not expected to hear that particular explanation from Francesca. She coughed and sputtered, staring at the housekeeper with wide eyes that greatly conveyed her surprise. So that was why the entire staff had suddenly become so attentive to her dietary intake. To know that everyone around her was putting so much dedication into the endeavor to ensure that she would quickly give birth to the future heir of Tsiveone blood was humbling, and at the same time, highly stressful as well. Haru did not know what to think, and she was beginning to feel rather frazzled and bewildered.

"Does Bel know?" Was the only question she could think of right after this unexpected revelation. Then, she shook her head and answered her own question. "What am I asking? Of course he knows." Haru sounded rather disgruntled. "I'm always going to be the last person to hear about these things, aren't I?"

Francesca bowed her head slightly. "My apologies, Princess."

Haru shook her head once more. "Oh no, Francesca-san, I'm not blaming you, so please don't mistake my meaning." The brunette smiled at the gentle housekeeper. "Little Bel or little Haru will be my responsibility to look after as well. I want to be the best mother to my children, but I never realized that there was so much preparation to take care of even before pregnancy. Will you guide me as well?"

The Princess was so sincere that it was impossible to deny her. Francesca stared at the younger woman in surprise at first, but then the genteel and quiet head of household smiled and nodded in agreement. "As you wish, Your Highness. I'd be honored to teach you anything you'd like to know."

Haru beamed at the other female, and then she gestured curiously at the partially eaten cheesecake with her fork. "So, what's so special about this honey?"

"Well, by itself, the Sidr honey is a potent source of antioxidants coupled with medicinal and aphrodisiac properties. The royal jelly and bee pollen extracted from the bees that make the honey are also highly potent, and those are immensely effective for improving fertility and virility in both women and men."

Haru had to pause at the 'aphrodisiac properties' part, a chagrinned expression on her face. Her sex life with her seemingly insatiable husband was not exactly stagnant, so she could imagine how much less sleep she was going to get at night if this honey was really as effective as Francesca had mentioned. Still, the brunette continued to dig into her cheesecake with decided gusto; after all, cake was still cake, and she was going to need all the extra energy she could get to keep up with Belphegor in the near future.

At the very least, Francesca appeared rather pleased with her mistress' obliging nature.

"I have also taken the liberty of adding more seafood courses to your diet, specifically wild-caught oily fish such as salmon and river trout from the rivers up North, as well as their respective egg roe. They are particularly beneficial for couples preparing to conceive, so please eat more of such foods when you can, Your Highness."

Haru agreed readily enough. "I'll eat anything you put in front of me, Francesca-san; that is not an issue." She stuck another forkful of cheesecake into her mouth and gave the older woman a small smile. "I'm really thankful for your help; if not for your presence, I'd be completely ignorant in this matter."

The brunette had lost her mother at a very young age, and her father had never remarried or taken an interest in other women after his wife's passing. Francesca had been the surrogate mother figure for Belphegor when he had lost his parents, and as such, the royal housekeeper was now as close to a maternal influence as she could get for Haru as well. It was especially so since they were living in a largely male dominated environment and the Princess could only rely upon the older female for counsel when it came to discussions like pregnancy and conception, topics that were usually advised upon by the more experienced mothers to their newlywed daughters.

Haru had not known her mother long enough to miss her as an individual, was barely able to recall the pretty features of the soft-spoken, kindly smiling woman who had given birth to her if not for the precious few family portraits tucked safely in the photo albums of the Miura household, taken before her parent's illness had struck with a sudden, unrelenting force, stealing the gentle woman from her grieving husband and leaving their young offspring motherless. Hitoshi had done his best to raise their daughter as a single parent and there was no lack of parental affection for Haru, so it was not often that the brunette felt the pang of missing her mother.

It was at rare times like these though, that Haru wondered what it would be like to be able to consult her mother, to share her feelings and insecurities and learn if the Miura matriarch had ever felt the same way when she was preparing herself to create a new life with the man she loved. It was all wishful thinking, of course, but it would be nice to know a bit more about her mother now that she was planning to become one herself. Perhaps she would give her father a call tomorrow, to ask if he would be willing to tell her more about the parent who had birthed her.

A muffled noise from below the balcony outside roused Haru from her wistful musings and interrupted the peaceful lull of silence between herself and Francesca. The brunette turned her head curiously and eyed the darkened area outside even as the housekeeper stood up swiftly and inserted herself between the Princess and the possible threat. The older woman's usually gentle, servile gaze quickly turned steely with resolve.

"Your Highness, please remain where you are and allow me to deal with the situation," the usually sedate servant requested in a tone that brooked for no argument. Still, Haru stared hesitantly at the housekeeper, visibly dubious over her decision.

"Are you sure, Francesca-san?" the brunette asked slowly, quickly setting down the plate of dessert on the coffee table as she did so. "Pardon me if I'm wrong, but you don't look equipped for a confrontation to me."

Her mistress's concern was obvious, and Francesca merely inclined her head slightly at younger woman. "Do not worry about me, Your Highness. I'm not entirely defenseless, and Commander Lussuria has taught me a few tricks as well."

As if to emphasize on her words, the housekeeper deftly withdrew a pair of palm-sized, black, cylindrical objects from her skirt pockets, clicked the small buttons located on the side of the sleek designs, and with a soft, pneumatic hiss, the titanium alloy extended in a blink of an eye to form a pair of three foot long multi-segmented staffs that arced with electric power charged by extremely high voltages.

Haru stared, impressed by the dangerous looking weapons that the deceptively genial woman appeared to handle rather expertly. "Oh," she could only mutter lamely in the end. "You _are_ rather well prepared. I will leave you to it and try my best to stay out of the way, then."

It was standard operating procedure for all secondary (non-combat) members of the Vongola Famiglia whenever the main base back in Japan happened to be under attack. The primary Guardians would move to engage the hostile forces whereas the other members and allies with less offensive fortes would serve to fortify the base's defenses as much as possible, and at the same time, to prepare for evacuation should the worst case scenario ever occur. There was no time or place for hysterics or brash bravado; the Decimo had made it very clear that he would not condone reckless acts of heroics from any of the secondary members, since they rarely possessed the necessary firepower to back up their plans and that tended to have the rather disastrous result of creating a larger fallout and causing even more casualties.

Haru was well aware of her place in the midst of a pending battle. Her interference would hinder more than help, and so she resolutely brushed away the tiny, niggling feeling of worthlessness and started to inch off the couch, ready to retreat further into the room so as not to serve as a distraction to Francesca when the latter dealt with the threat. Before she could completely do so, however, the strange sound from earlier gradually increased in volume to a dull roar, and Haru's attention was quickly diverted outside. Her eyes widened with curiosity when the pitch dark cover of night was rapidly invaded by an approaching light source, and then what looked like a teenage boy promptly hovered into view, wreathed in dazzling Sun Flames that had aided in his flight from the castle grounds a few hundred feet below.

Haru stared. It was downright impressive that the boy—clearly an adolescent of perhaps fourteen, fifteen years of age at most—was able to manifest his Flame to such a degree of finesse enough to use it for flight. But that was only part of the reason why Haru was discreetly gawking at the unknown teen—even from afar, the boy, with his tousled golden hair, long fringe, and gangly, lanky body, bore such a striking resemblance to her husband that they could have passed off as siblings.

But that couldn't be true, could it? Bel's parents had passed away long before this child could be possibly conceived. So who was he?

Just then, the teen seemed to momentarily lose control of his aerial ability; the fiery Sun attribute was known for burning fiercely and erratically, making the particular Flame type too wild and unstable to sustain flights for long periods of time, and the sudden, fierce gust of updraft that seemed to appear out of nowhere quickly threatened to gutter the rapidly shifting, sputtering fire the boy was emitting.

Haru started at the dangerous situation, immediately concerned. If the teen's Flame chose to die out on him right now, then he would most surely plunge to a certain messy, painful death, seeing that he had not yet cleared the stone ledge over to the safety of the terrace floor. Haru's instincts kicked in, and the brunette quickly found herself hurrying towards the distressed youngster before she even knew it, temporarily ignoring Francesca's words of caution, running full tilt into the balcony, her hands outstretched as if prepared to make a desperate grab for the boy before he fell.

It was rather fortunate that the situation did not quite manage to degenerate to that point. Haru had barely stepped one foot outside when the struggling boy, with a fierce grimace of concentration on his face (what's visible of it), quickly expelled a large, concentrated burst of Sun Flames powerful enough to propel him over the edge of the stone railing and to safety. The child was perhaps too overzealous in his desperation, and the sudden overcompensation in momentum and abrupt shift in dynamics quickly ensured that he soared well over the height of the balustrades at an uncontrolled velocity and promptly smacked his head against the unforgiving ceiling before dropping unceremoniously onto the floor with a painful thud. The deceptively nondescript, platinum crown nestled amongst his hair was knocked loose from the impact, clattering noisily across the stone floor before sliding to a stop right against Haru's feet.

The Princess Consort stood there and stared between the crown plainly embossed with the coat of arms whose design she had never seen before—but yet the arrangement and patterns of the insignia suggested a connection of the Tsiveone blood—and the blonde teenager lying on the floor, literally having just had the breath knocked right out of him.

Francesca, who had rushed right after her mistress when the younger woman had dashed off heedlessly to try to help the stranger with yet unknown intentions, quickly focused upon the ornamental circlet with the attention of a hawk. The royal coat of arms, designed with a style that clearly belong to the Tsiveone Royal Family, was not one she recognized, but the housekeeper's sharp eyes were able to swiftly discern the subtle, complicated nuances behind each and every pattern and symbol in that foreign insignia, and she stiffened briefly in surprise.

It was tradition for all royal members of the direct Tsiveone line to adapt their personal coat of arms from their parents before them and so on, a symbolic representation of the bloodline being passed down from generation to generation, and the basis of the coat of arms she was looking at right there and then held an undeniable, if subtle, resemblance to the current Crown Prince's.

Could this child be…?

"Ouch," Malaki groaned aloud then, stirring and gingerly touching his throbbing forehead where it had had a rather violent meeting with the concrete ceiling. Come to think of it, the back of his head was pounding like mad as well, as it naturally should be after the not so gentle collision with the floor he had just suffered from. His head was one big hurt right now, but thanks to his apparently hard skull, it did not feel like he would be suffering a concussion from his fall. Still, coupled with the other bruises that his older sister and younger brother had given him in one form or another…today was _not_ a good day.

Note to self: never attempt to fly again until he had gained full control of his unruly Flame abilities. Navigating through the air with precise, coordinated bursts of self-generated Flame was not nearly as easy as his father had made it look, and it was fortunate that neither of his parents were around to witness his spectacularly embarrassing failure, even if he had somehow made it all the way up on his very first attempt. It had been a shaky ride, but at least he had gotten himself where he intended to be. His parents wouldn't quite see it that way, though. His mother would have yelled herself hoarse at his dangerous, reckless action and then banned him from experimenting with his Flame for the foreseeable future, and his father…well, his father would probably lift that ban right after his mother's back was turned and then do something insane like hang him off the roof of the highest castle parapet he could find and leave him there to figure out how to get his technique right. Malaki couldn't decide which was worse.

The sound of tentative footsteps alerted him to the approach of someone, and then a familiar voice rang out with concern. "Hey there, are you alright?"

The teenager must have been groggier from his fall than he realized, for he blurted out in reply almost without thinking. "I'm fine. I have a hard head, so it's okay, Mo- uh, I mean, I'm just fine. Perfectly dandy, really."

Haru stared down dubiously at the boy who was just slowly sitting up from his rather…unusual entrance, but did not appear to have caught on to his slip of tongue. If this was supposed to be an attack, it was certainly not a very brilliantly executed one, and Haru still could not help but wonder about the identity of this young blonde. The teen's expression was one of an uncomfortable grimace, no doubt contributed by the large goose eggs growing on the back of his head as well as on his forehead, and then he started to pat the ground around him absently to locate the crown that had fallen away from him, and Haru crouched down before the boy and pushed the platinum circlet that she had picked up earlier into his hand.

"Thanks," the boy muttered, and then lifted his head to look at her for the very first time. The teen seem to still momentarily with surprise as he stared at her, and Haru paused as well, wondering if there was something on her face. Then, he snapped out of it and hurriedly distracted her from his strange reaction by taking the crown from her and plopping it unceremoniously back amongst his unruly hair.

Once again, Haru stared at the finely detailed coat of arms on the royal circlet, gleaming under the dim evening light. And now that she was right before the boy, his likeness to Belphegor was even more pronounced, both sharing the same fine, burnished gold hair, pale skin and angular, patrician bone structure. Yet, there were some differences as well. The boy's facial features seemed to be slightly softer…gentler than her husband's, whose face was sharper, more sleek and narrow. The boy also appeared to be slightly taller than Belphegor as well; all long limbs and awkward, gangly movements that he would no doubt grow out of once he reached adulthood. Most tellingly of all, however, were his eyes.

He had briefly brushed aside his long fringe to probe at the bruise flowering on his forehead, and Haru had quickly caught a glimpse of the rest of his face, and those eyes had immediately stood out from everything else. Exotically cat-like and slightly tilted, the dark violet of his irises struck at Haru's attention the most, and she had stared in surprise. That rare eye color was the same shade of Galatea's and that of Belphegor's mother, the late Queen Chantelle.

Haru quickly blurted out her suspicion. "Are you, by any chance, related to Belphegor, Crown Prince of Astonia?"

Malaki sneaked a glance at his mother—even if she didn't know just who he was yet. He technically didn't have to conceal his identity from her, but figured that it would be much more convenient for him to keep the facts to a bare minimum for now. He still had a troublesome, bratty brother to find and throttle (the kick between the legs had hurt, that damn pipsqueak) and getting stuck with explanations right now when his other siblings were not here yet was not high up on his list of priorities at the moment. But he couldn't exactly just lie as well, and so he nodded.

"Yeah, you can say that I'm a close relative," he replied carefully and quickly got to his feet. You are a close relative of mine too, Mother, he thought wryly at the same time even as he eyed her stumped demeanor with affectionate amusement.

It was rather refreshing, for once, to be able to run metaphorical circles around his parent who had always seemed to know everything. This younger version of his mother did not look all that different from the one currently residing back in his time and blissfully unaware of the antics that her children had gotten up to. Physically, there weren't many changes; she had aged well in the future and would look more or less the same decades down the road—her hair was nowhere as long as it would grow to become, though, and there was also the absence of the fine, delicate laugh lines on the outer edges of her friendly, expressive eyes amongst other minute, subtle signs of age, but that eventual progression of life was only perfectly natural and was nothing to be embarrassed about. His mother had always been a bright, beautiful creature to him and the rest of his family, and that was all that mattered.

This present Haru also seemed to lack the stately grace and elegant air of maturity that befitted the Queen of Astonia, and it was a revelation to the teenager that his gentle mother had not always been as calm and tranquilly serene as she would become in the future. Still, he would recognize her anywhere; the kindness inherent to her very being was still the same—would always remain the same—and it showed in the way she had ran at him to help straightaway, never mind that she had no idea who he was or if he had harbored any ill intentions towards her.

His mother had never failed to offer her aid to anyone who looked like they needed it, even if that practice had gotten her into more than a few spots of trouble with their exasperated Father over the years. It was always better to give someone the benefit of doubt just as she hoped anyone would do for her and her family should they ever need help themselves in the future, she had always told them. You know, do unto others as you would have them do unto you and all that. His father had long since washed his hands of trying to get her to quit her impossibly goody two shoes ways, but seemed to have recently taken up the lost cause again since Hotaru was beginning to take after their mother in that aspect and the second youngest of the Tsiveone brood was a rather gullible sort and would be easily tricked by just any Tom, Dick, and Harry with a sob story.

Malaki realized abruptly that he was rambling in his head again, a bad habit that had often gotten him smacked around by his overly trigger happy older sister and father. Both elder sibling and parent shared the same intolerance for being ignored, and often brought him back from his absentminded contemplations either by whacking him upside the head and/or chucking sharp objects at that empty noggin of his—or so they perceived it. Just thinking of it made the blonde boy rub at his aching head reflexively. With violent family members like that, it was a miracle that had still somehow managed to retain his membership in Mensa.

Francesca moved forward from beside Haru then, subtly positioning herself at an easier to defend spot and snapping the teen out of his disgruntled thoughts with her presence. The housekeeper had been observing the boy closely, and whatever she had seen must have convinced her of the conclusion that she had formed, for she stood down slightly but did not retract her weapons, lowering her guard imperceptibly but still ready to leap to her mistress's protection should the need suddenly present itself.

Malaki watched the housekeeper warily; the older woman was most likely more or less aware of his true identity—with her intimate knowledge of the Tsiveone Royal Family, she would surely understand the significance of his crown as well as the coat of arms embossed over it. Francesca, or Cesca, as the Tsiveone children had grown up addressing the highly efficient and competent matron, had helped their parents to raise them alongside with the family butler, Mortigor (or Morty, as Brat had taken to address the older man), and although both of the servants were getting on in age back in his time, they still served the royal family with unflinching loyalty and dedication, albeit indirectly in the form of training the next generation of butlers and housekeepers who would serve in the respective households of each of the Tsiveone Princes and Princesses when they came of age.

As of now, Malaki briefly marveled over how the housekeeper appeared considerably younger than he knew her to be, and at the same time, he wondered if she would reveal the truth to his mother.

To his surprise, the woman merely inclined her head slightly at him before speaking. "You are very far away from home, young Prince," she remarked neutrally. Malaki was at least grateful that the royal housekeeper had not gone and entirely spilled the beans on him. Still, her comment was more than enough for his mother to pick up upon, and the younger woman stared at him in a stunned manner.

"You are a Prince too?" she asked, surprised. "A blood relative of Bel's? But he mentioned that he had taken out the entire direct Tsiveone line…"

The blonde teen shrugged. "Well, he did try," Malaki stalled deliberately. "But he didn't succeed, obviously."

He was not lying, technically speaking. His Dad did attempt to do them in at least once every month in the name of a certain traditional activity also known dubiously as the Tsiveone Family Bonding Exercise, and although he didn't try _very_ hard to kill them, he was still kicking their collective asses rather gleefully and increasing the intensity of the hellish workouts every time he did it, which really sucked when you happened to be on the receiving end of said workouts. Brat was the only one out of all them who was exempt from the torture sessions, at least for now. The youngest Tsiveone was obviously still too little to participate in the physically violent and aggressive mock battles, not to mention, the manipulative little tyke had the tendency to run to their mother to tattle on their father if the older male even squinted at him the wrong way, and since Brat was _the_ baby of the family, it was an understatement to say that she was extremely protective of him.

Malaki estimated that it must have taken at least a few weeks' worth of sleepless nights alone in the guest bedroom before his Dad quickly caught on that his wife's maternal instinct was nothing to laugh at especially when it came to their children, and therein laid the unspoken compromise that he was not allowed to permanently maim or accidentally kill any of them or she would really show him hell on earth. That meant Brat was off limits for now since he was too young and fragile for such sport, but it was expected that he would begin formal training when he turned five, just like the rest of his siblings had done before him.

In the meanwhile, although their mother had obviously banned their father from picking on the youngest (all in the spirit of 'toughening' him up), said father was only more than happy to sit back and have his minions—his other children—do the dirty work on his behalf. Here, the older male often liked to use himself as an example, stating that he had gotten as powerful as he was right now thanks to the constant attacks from his elder twin brother, Rasiel, but that was hardly reassuring because his father did end up killing their uncle in the end, and therefore Malaki was understandably concerned. But apparently, it was perfectly alright to take potshots at your very young sibling because it would help in his agility training in the future, never mind that the motor skills of an ordinary three year old would be hardly enough to evade attacks of any sort.

Then again, genetics must have clearly helped to play a role in this scenario, for Brat had proven time and again to be a very fast three year old when he really got into it.

The little scamp was as fast as a cockroach actually, Malaki thought irritably of his baby brother, abruptly reminded of how the youngster had given him a swift boot in the groin and then proceeded to quickly disappear into the night despite wearing that ridiculous and glaringly orange costume that their mother had put him in. And now he was tasked with the duty to retrieve the troublesome child or risk being kicked around by Miyuko when she finally made her way over here with Hotaru and found him still Brat-less.

Malaki scowled inwardly, aggravated. He just knew that he should have stayed in bed today.

"Are you here for an attack against Bel?" his mother asked cautiously then, diverting his attention back to her.

"_No_," he answered quickly, visibly appalled that she would think that. "He'd wipe the floor with us, so no."

Francesca's eyes sharpened with interest at his words. "Us?" she echoed with blatant curiosity, and Malaki hastily decided that it was time to make a tactical retreat. He was distracted by the unexpected meeting with this younger version of his mother and also preoccupied with trying to figure out just where to start looking for Brat in this humongous property; if he wasn't careful, he would be blurting out information that he shouldn't, and that would really be asking for trouble.

Well, more trouble than they were all already in, at least.

"You know what? I'm kind of in the middle of searching for something right now, so I have to go. Sorry for intruding." Malaki started to inch away from the women and towards the suite attached to the balcony. Then, he paused and stared briefly into the unfamiliar looking room. It was not how it looked back in the future, in his time. He decided to double check his location just in case he had landed on the wrong floor. "Wait; this is the fifth level of the west tower, right?"

Bewildered by the polite teen's strangely comfortable familiarity with her, Haru could only nod automatically, not even thinking to suspect his motives or wonder if he was up to no good. She felt oddly at ease around this boy—there was an unexpected sense of connection with the teen that was not entirely due to his physical resemblance to Belphegor, but Haru could not seem to explain why.

"Got it, thanks," the lithe, lanky boy acknowledged her reply with his own nod of gratitude and started to move purposefully once more, tucking his hands into his pants pocket and walking swiftly out of the balcony and into the living room. He was out of view within seconds and Haru quickly found that she was weirdly reluctant to let him leave her line of sight. The brunette exchanged a glance with Francesca.

"I think we should follow him," she told the housekeeper in a distracted tone, and surprisingly enough, Francesca relented.

"We should find out who he is," the housekeeper agreed, and so they hurried after the boy, hoping to catch him before he left completely. They needn't have worried; he was still standing at the exit when they reentered the room and appeared to be lost in his thoughts again, staring at the closed door and spacing out like before. The young blonde seemed to be afflicted with the rather peculiar habit of drifting off randomly, but this time around, he snapped out of it by himself and turned around to face them once more, not entirely surprised to see that they had followed him in after all.

"I forgot to ask earlier; by the way, have any of you seen a little tiger cub running loose around here? He's about this tall-" The teen reached down and gestured slightly above his knee. "-and bright orange. Very bright orange. He should be somewhere here looking for his mother, and you'd be hard pressed to miss him."

Hard pressed, because said mother was right over here and the baby Tsiveone would Velcro himself to her if he was anywhere nearby. With that thought in mind, Malaki wondered if he should just perhaps stay put by his mother's side and see if Brat would appear on his own. His younger brother had always had the uncanny ability to locate their mother as if he had an internal GPS tracker built in him just for that purpose, so it wouldn't be all that surprising if the child really did pop out suddenly to latch himself to her.

"Tiger…cub?" Haru echoed with a furrowed brow, clearly not expecting such a random question. "Like Bester?" she asked almost to herself, but of course not expecting the blonde to reply her. To her surprise, he shook his head.

"No, not like Bester," Malaki answered blithely, unthinkingly. He did not seem to notice his blunder, that he shouldn't even know what type of animal Bester was, even as Francesca eyed him carefully. A somewhat disgruntled air surrounded him as he muttered under his breath. "More like a Tigger, actually. A bouncy, spoilt baby Tigger with sharp little claws and fangs."

His poor mother looked like she did not know what to make of his strange reply. Francesca gave him a mildly chiding look though, as if she had just realized who he was possibly talking about. It was a challenge for Malaki not to look away from the family housekeeper's silent censure, which was amazing by itself since even though this Francesca didn't know him yet, she was already formidable enough to cow him just with her look. It was a good thing that this past version of his mother did not have much experience doling out her much dreaded stares of abject disappointment, and that she still appeared more or less clueless to what was going on, or he would have been thoroughly defeated at the hands of both women.

Francesca did not sit well with leaving her mistress in the dark though, and was about to inform the younger woman of her suspicions when they were interrupted rather suddenly by the door opening with an abrupt bang and an enthusiastic Lussuria appearing at the doorway, propping up what looked like an toddler-sized orange bundle perched on his hip.

"Yoo-hoo! Did I just hear the word Tigger?" the Sun Flame Commander crowed cheerily. "Because I just found the cutest little lost Tigger-chan wandering around the hallways and have decided to bring him here!"

Haru's attention was immediately caught by the little striped tiger costumed child clinging to Lussuria's neck like a barnacle, and then she quickly put two and two together and the light bulb went off over her head. "This is the tiger cub?"

Malaki just eyed his younger brother with mild chagrin, who was by now wriggling furiously to get loose from Lussuria's hold and trying to make the older man let him down. At least Lussuria's arrival had just saved him the trouble of having to look for Brat. The older Prince nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely him."

The little boy was absolutely _adorable_, with his cherubic features, angelic looking golden hair and the amusing romper suit that he was attired in. Haru was immediately charmed even as she noticed the tiny little crown that sat precariously on his head. Another Tsiveone royal? The brunette decided that she did not know what to make of the situation anymore. Belphegor's relatives seemed to be all popping out of the woodwork one after another, and that young child was definitely of blood relation to her husband just like the first teen was—the physical resemblance was just too obvious for the boy to be anything else.

Francesca, on the other hand, was smiling slightly, clearly delighted by this turn of events.

"Lulu, lemme go!" the young child demanded even as he was twisting about like a scalded cat in the arms of his honorary godmother. Lussuria quickly found himself with a slippery handful of determined little boy as he tried to reach his beloved mother. The Sun Unit Commander relaxed his hold and allowed the excited kid to shimmy down his legs. Lussuria laughed with indulgent amusement. "Oh, you are just as impatient as your Daddy, aren't you? Alright, off to Mommy you go!"

Lussuria's sense of familiarity towards the little one was rather unexpected, and Haru absently wondered just who was the mother of this precocious young Prince.

That was when the tiger-suited baby pounced at her with a happy squeal, nearly knocking her over with the force of his enthusiasm.

"Momma!"

Haru's eyes widened with disbelief and shock even as the little blonde quickly wrapped his short little arms around her legs and latched onto her like a koala bear.

_What?!_

* * *

_::tsuzuku::_

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**Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:**

Malaki is a total spaz. He is the smartest child out of the lot but he is kind of absentminded, like his maternal grandfather, Hiroshi. This is why, in this chapter, he is always rambling away in his thoughts. If Miyuki is Daddy's Girl, then Malaki is definitely Mommy's Boy, haha.

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The information about the Sidr honey and the fertility-inducing foods are authentic and can be found on the internet. Yes, I did my research. My mother was wondering if I was trying to tell her something.

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Next chapter: Haru interacts with her cute sons!

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Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!

-sllebswap


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